The Diary of Harley Quinn
by harleyquinnqueenofhearts
Summary: Harley's origin Nolanverse ...only a little bit of Joker in this one, but if you like it, I might post the sequels...which contain a LOT of J


The Diary of Harley Quinn

Property of Arkham Asylum

September 7th

Well, it's my first day at Arkham. I assume you psychiatrists are going to read this, so I'll explain how it all started. Then maybe you'll let me out.

It all started yesterday after I got off the bus from school. I got dropped off, as usual, at Gotham's Morrison Bank, where my parents worked. I went into my dad's office to get a start on my homework. He was a security guard. My mom was a teller. Anyway, about an hour into my work, I heard screaming from outside the door. There were gunshots. I covered my mouth to keep myself from screaming. I had to stay calm. I peeked through the blinds, hoping no one would see me, but one person did. The Joker. I pretended I wasn't there and looked for a way out.

It was too late. He had already seen me and broken in. I heard sirens outside, then felt an arm around my waist, no doubt it was him. The cold barrel of a gun was pressed hard on my head. "Walk with me, Dollface, " he growled. I did.

I screamed as we walked out into the lobby. Every person in the bank was dead. My parents were lying cold on the floor. I started sobbing. "Shut up!" he yelled. He pushed me in front of him as we walked outside in plain view of the policemen. He pushed me into a car and got in the driver's seat. "Anyone follows me, she's dead," he yelled back at the policemen.

I tried hard not to show him my fear, but I couldn't help myself. I closed my eyes and pretended it was a dream. I opened them again. "Still here, babe," he laughed. I whimpered. It was like everything was in slow motion. I didn't notice the drivers flipping us off. I didn't hear the horns beeping or angry shouts. It was just me and him. I shuddered at the thought.

After what seemed like an eternity, he stopped at an apartment building and dragged me out of the car. He reached into my jeans pocket. "What the crap are you doing?" I yelled in protest. Smiling, he waved my phone at me before smashing it against the car. He just loved making me uncomfortable. Before I knew it, he had hoisted me over his shoulder. _This is it_, I thought, _I'm going to die. _He shoved me into what I assumed was his or an abandoned apartment; I couldn't tell which. I noticed his bathroom didn't have a light bulb in it. There were joker cards on the floor in every room.

He pushed me in a room and closed the door as he left. I didn't hear his footsteps anymore so I checked the door. Locked. _Crap! _I thought. I tried kicking it. It didn't budge. I screamed as loud as I could. Nothing. I don't know how long I stayed in there, but after a while, he came back in.

He sat on a chair and pulled me on his lap. I tried to break free, but his grip was too strong. I kicked him.

Big mistake.

He punched me hard across the face. "DON'T EVER DO THAT TO ME!" he screamed. He threw me on the ground. I thought he was going to hit me again, but he sat back down. After about a minute, he must've regained his composure, if you can call it that. "What's your name, kid?"

"H-Harleen."

"Harleen what?" he asked demandingly.

"Quinzel," I answered as calmly as I could.

He chuckled. "Sounds like harlequin. Harley Quinn…you could work for me…"

"I'd never work for you," I said with as much attitude as I could. I say stupid stuff when I get scared. "And my name is Harleen."

He hit me again.

"What's your name?!" he shouted. I didn't answer. When I get really scared, I can't talk at all.

He hit me harder. "What is it?!"

The glint of his knife caught my eye. This wasn't going to end well. "Harley Quinn! Okay?! It's Harley Quinn! Just please stop hitting me," I sobbed. But he didn't put the knife away. "What are you doing? I told you I'm Harley Quinn!"

He smirked and said, "I'm making sure you stay my little harlequin." He backed me into a corner and grabbed my face.

"Please stop!" I begged. He ignored me. I screamed as he carved half of his deranged smile on my face. He enjoyed the sound.

"Look at me!" he growled. I was sobbing and screaming as he finished it off. He let go of me and I fell on the floor, writhing in pain. I was coughing blood. He looked at me. His knife dropped on the floor. It almost looked like he cared. His face dropped. He was…sorry? I saw him bend down to where I was, then nothing. I passed out from the loss of blood.

I was lapsing in and out of consciousness. "Wha-?" I squeaked.

"Shh…" he said. I figured out that I was in his arms. I couldn't see anything, just colors.

"Get off me," I said weakly. My face was killing me. He ignored me, and I, too weak to fight back, went unconscious again. I woke a second time, but only for a second. I don't know where I was. The last time, I was in excruciating pain. Something was stabbing at my face, that's all I remember.

I woke up the next day (today) in the hospital. _Was I just dreaming?_ I thought. No, but my life was about to turn into a nightmare. "Where…what-"

"Harley?" the nurse asked, "Harley? You're in a hospital."

"Harley?" I repeated. "Oh, no!" I gasped. I got out of bed and headed for the bathroom, ripping out my IV. My face stung in a pain that was indescribable. The nurse pleaded with me to stop.

"Harley, you shouldn't look in the mirror right now. Please get back into bed! You've had a-"

"Shut up!" I growled. I realized I was slurring and started to run to the mirror.

"Harley!" the nurse yelped.

"Don't you _ever _call me that! Get out!" I yelled. I turned to look in the mirror and screamed. I broke down sobbing with mixed feelings of anger and sorrow. My face was mangled just like his. I had black stitches all over my cheeks. There was a purple bruise on my shoulder. I threw something at the mirror; I don't remember what it was. I whirled around to see the nurse run out of the room.

Something caught my eye. There was a rose beside my bed with a small card attached. I walked over to read it. It said:

Feel better soon.

-J.

I remembered the look of remorse on his face. He was like a child whose game went too far, or a dog that realizes he's just hurt a family member. I closed my eyes and I could see him, his eyes watery and his face confused, scared, hurt. Just like mine was when he did this to me. I didn't know what to feel. I picked up my chart. I read it aloud, "Patient's name: Harley Quinn. Attending: J. Morrison…" Morrison…like the bank…

It dawned on me: he had taken me to the hospital and put me in a room. He had forged a chart for me. He had folded my clothes neatly on the chair beside my bed and put me in a hospital gown (the putting me in a gown part I wasn't too happy about). That stabbing pain was him giving me stitches (that I was also concerned about). As I read further down the chart, I found out that _someone _had prescribed me morphine. He cared. The infamous Joker cared.

My little moment was interrupted as I heard security guards and my nurse walking down the hallway. I grabbed the card attached to my flower and stuffed it in my bra. I had proof that he cared, and I wasn't about to give it up.

The guards entered my room with straps to tie me to my bed, apparently, because that's what happened. However, they weren't very gentle and strapped me right where he had hit me (the second time, I mean). I expected that. What I wasn't expecting was a paralytic. I saw the nurse's syringe and struggled desperately to get free. I knew I was going to Arkham, and when you go to Arkham, you have a slim chance of getting out. She stuck me with the stupid thing; I lay there until your stupid padded van got there to take me here.

So there's what happened. See? I'm not insane. I was simply abused and took it like any normal person would. Please, please, please at least consider me for dismissal. I'm more likely to go crazy in here with the dim lighting and the racket coming from down the hallway next to the real psychos. Just let me out.

-Harley Quinn

September 8th

Today, my wonderful guard informed me that I shall be here for at least a month before I'm even on the list to be considered to be dismissed. What a ray of sunshine he is! If I'm going to be here for a month, he has to go. Him or me.

Anyway, this is the first _full _day I've spent here. The day so far has been interesting to say the least. Doctors staring at me like I'm a monkey at the zoo, the annoying guard, the cold food. It gets old after, like, three seconds. Oh, and can we do something about the bed in here? I didn't sleep at all on this thing.

On totally random note, I've been thinking about that card. The Joker showed me kindness, in his own weird way, and yet I still don't think I can forgive him. I haven't looked in the mirror since yesterday. I don't want to ever again. I can see why he didn't have a light in his bathroom. He didn't want to see himself in the mirror. He was smart, cutting me up like that. I really can't go back to being myself, not with this face.

What if people think I did this to myself? That would prove to them that I'm insane. I could try to explain, but they wouldn't believe me. Who would, now that I'm in here?

And another thing, how am I going to get my stitches out? When I scar up, can I get a doctor in here (a _real _one and not a psychiatrist) to do it for me?

I've felt sick since I got here. I haven't eaten. I don't feel like it.

There's more. I miss my parents. It sounds so stupid but I just want to see them again. I didn't get to tell them I love them. I didn't get to say goodbye. I can't even go to their funeral because I'm stuck here! I want out. Now.

I don't really feel like writing to you people anymore.

-Harley Quinn

September 9th

I am concerned. I've been thinking about that card. _Obsessing _over that card. Maybe I am crazy. No, I'm not! What am I saying?! See what this place is doing to me?

Like I was saying about the card. He never says anything like that. Maybe he didn't write it. How could someone who would carve someone's face just because care for them and say "feel better soon"? Maybe it was Batman. Maybe he put me in the hospital and then forged the card to make me crazy. But why would he do that? He's a do-gooder. He catches criminals like The Joker. Ugh. That name sends shivers down my spine. I want to call him something else, but I don't know what. Like I said, I'm still angry about what he did to me.

But what about what he did _for_ me? If he really did it, I mean. I don't know what to think. He was so heartless and cruel, but that look he gave me…like he had been there before. Well, he must've to get his scars. It's just like the poem we read in school, "The Whipping."

Speaking of, I miss school. I want to see my friends again. I want to be in classes. I want…normalcy. But that can't happen anymore. I'm an alleged psychopath (notice the word alleged, there, people!) with a face like The…you know. What normal girl has a life like that? The only friend I have now is myself. I'm alone. That's enough to drive a person crazy, even when they haven't been traumatized!

Anyway, onto my new routine at Arkham. I now have medicine. I'm not sure what it is, but it's some sort of pain killer. And it makes me drowsy, which is good because I can get some sleep. I take that in the morning. Then, I sit and just think or try to sleep until lunch. After I eat, I think some more about that card, then I'll just think about my past life, back when my name was Harleen. By the way, there's no evidence of that now. Great. Anyway, I have dinner and then shower. I'll write in my diary. Then, I try to sleep some more. I need all I can get.

-Harley Quinn

September 10th

I have decided that he (you know) really did care. I've been thinking and thinking, and the more I get angry at him, the more I see that sad face. I feel guilty for not forgiving him. It's not _his _fault I'm in here. It's that stupid nurse, along with some of your finest. Granted, I shouldn't have overreacted, but what else could I do? Sit there and take it? I'm a different person than I was and there's no going back.

Am I supposed to just say "ok" and live on like this? No! I'm fighting back. If only I had a phone call…even prisoners get a phone call! This isn't prison. I know that because the guard informs me of that every time I complain. No, this is worse than prison. That's my personal opinion, if it matters to you people. Well, there must be at least one of you that cares, because if The Jo…if that criminal can care about me, surely someone who's taken a Hippocratic Oath can!

For the one person out there in this dump who cares, I'm going to tell you about myself. The real me, and not this person I've been forced to become by being here. My favorite color is red. Before this whole incident, I was going to be a lawyer. I doubt I'll get out of here, though. I absolutely love the rain. I used to have a dog named Sandy. I used to take tae Kwan do; too bad _he _didn't even blink when I kicked him. Otherwise, I could've escaped…well, maybe. This Friday is my birthday. Guess what? It's Wednesday. And nobody spends time with someone who looks like this. That's the whole reason I'm keeping the name Harley Quinn. So that I can't possibly be embarrassed if anyone I know tries to visit me. They won't be able to find a Harleen Quinzel. That girl doesn't exist.

I wonder if I've been presumed dead. I mean, under the name, Harleen. I can't have just gone missing. What's going to happen to my stuff? All I have here are my clothes (which are in a locker somewhere) and my card (which I have with me). Don't get me wrong, I'm not in a hospital gown. I'm in these gross gray scrubs from the asylum.

I wish I had my own clothes back. It was a dark green shirt, skinny jeans, and a hoodie. They're probably all covered in blood, though. My shoes are. I still have those. Converse boots.

I actually don't remember if I bled on my clothes. I don't remember much after seeing his face, except for passing out and lapses of consciousness.

-Harley Quinn

September 11th

So it's that horrible anniversary again. I guess there are _some _people who have it worse than me. But it's just my luck that Captain Sunshine, who guards my cage, doesn't take holidays off. Great. I told him it was my birthday tomorrow. He pretended he didn't hear me. He's like one of those guards you see at castles in England. Never smiling. EVER.

But onto the only slightly less horrible, I got my first psychology session today. Here's how it went. Some lady named Dr. Davenport asked me about how I got my scars. I told her the whole story. She just sat there and went, "Mhm…yes. Interesting. How did that make you feel?" When I told her about my parents, I cried some, which is understandable. It brought back those feelings of anger towards…him. He killed the people I loved most, so why wouldn't I be angry? She said I had suppressed rage. Wonderful diagnosis, doctor. Now, let me ask you, can you be just a little less human?

She said I should channel my anger into one thing, like a stress ball. She's dangerously close to becoming that one thing. She also said I had self-worth issues, post-traumatic stress disorder, was on the edge of becoming depressed and needed stability.

Ugh…she's horrible. I told her this diary does a better job than her, which is totally true. She shrugged her shoulders and told me to give it time.

You want to know what I think? Time changes nothing. It only makes things worse. Take my life, for example. I hated being dropped off at the bank, but I gave it time. Look what happened. My family's dead, and I'm a mess.

The day got worse as it went on…I thought maybe things were looking up, seeing as I was allowed in the cafeteria for lunch. I earned a new nickname. "Freak." Of course, I punched the guy who said that. He hit me back. _Nobody _hits me. Not anymore. I kicked him till his nose was bleeding. I grabbed my plastic fork and was about to really give it to him, when Mr. Happy, the guard, grabbed me by my hair and handcuffed me.

That is why I am now sitting in solitary confinement until further notice.

-Harley Quinn

September 12th

It's my birthday. Guess what was the first present of the day? A notice saying I've been deemed dangerous. Isn't that wonderful?

The second present was even better. That stupid guard handed me a box. I, thinking maybe someone cared about me, opened it to find a mirror. "Happy birthday, Freak!" he laughed. I threw the mirror against a wall.

"I'll kill you!" I screamed. I lunged for him, not remembering that I was still cuffed loosely to the wall. I fell. He just chuckled some more. I growled at him. I tried desperately to reach him, but the cuffs were cutting into my wrists. "You're the freak! Laughing at a hurt child! Mocking an abused girl! I hope The Joker finds you! I hope he cuts you up, just like me! You know what? Give me a knife, and I'll do it myself!" He entered my cell and slammed me up against the wall.

"You better learn your place in this dump!" he yelled.

"You don't scare me. Nothing's worse than what I've already been through. You're worse than him. He apologized, in his own weird way. You? You'd kill me without batting an eye." He dropped me. I felt good. I know I shouldn't have threatened him, but he gets on my last nerve. I felt like I had won, though really, I'll probably be shut up for good with that little stunt.

Happy birthday to me.

-H.Q.

September 13th

I am currently having diary time in my solitary cell. I'm only allowed a crayon in here, so you'll have to interpret the scribble-scrabble. I'm basically on suicide watch, only they're watching me to make sure I don't kill anybody either.

I'm stuck in here for who knows how long. I'll be watched like a hawk if I get out. I'm not allowed anything sharp for at least a month. Wonderful. It'll be great eating this crap without a knife.

I never thought I'd say this, but I miss my old cell. Sad, isn't it? By being innocent in here for just six days, I've already threatened someone and beat some guy up. I think I will go crazy if I'm here for much longer. I should've kept my old name. Maybe then someone I know could've gotten me out of here.

Well, it's not like I had any say in the matter. _He _took away all the evidence of me being Harleen. On my medical chart it said Harley. That's who I've been ever since. Yeah, you can probably tell, I'm back to being mad at him. At least for a little while. I'll vent in my diary for now.

Ugh. My shoulder hurts. That's where he hit me the second time. First was right in the face. After the third hit (to the stomach), he ignored my begging him to stop, as you know. It all happened so fast. He grabbed my face in an instant, and I could taste metal in my mouth. It sucked. I thought I was done for. But once I passed out, here's what I probably happened.

He must've been sorry, because he took me to the hospital. Probably wrapped up my face, too, so I didn't bleed out. He probably found the stuff he needed to stitch up my face in the hospital and put all his thoughts into what he needed to do to make it look like I was there the whole time. I'm guessing he found an empty room (or pushed somebody out the window to _make_ it empty) and put me in the bed. He stitched up my face and realized that I didn't match all the other patients, so he stole a hospital gown and put me in it. Ugh. I don't even want to think about that. Goodness knows what he could've done with me! I was unconscious! But he put me in the bed and folded my clothes all neatly. Probably stole somebody's IV morphine and hooked it up in my arm. I'm glad I was asleep for that! Then he put the rose on the table by my bed and left.

When I think about that part, I feel bad for him a little. He did all that for me and didn't even get a thank you. I want to talk to him, though. I want to know why he did all this. I want to know what he was thinking from the moment he took me hostage to the minute he left the hospital. I need to know why he chose me. Why did I have to be his harlequin? And if I was supposed to, why doesn't he find me now? Why can't he help me get out of here?

I've been thinking about what to call him. Something else besides The Joker. That name scares me a little. Maybe…Mr. J. Yeah. He was The Joker when he hurt me, but he was Mr. J when he helped me. He signed the card, J. I'm only mad at the Joker. I'm starting to like Mr. J.-Harley

September 14th

I got a new guard today. I heard the other one went missing. So weird. Just to clear things up, I didn't do anything. I was here all night. Check the cameras. The new guy is pretty young-looking. He's a little less bleak, but he still won't talk to me. I don't blame him. I wouldn't talk to an _alleged _psycho either.

Speaking of psychos, my shrink got sent in to talk to me about Happy Sunshine's little gift. She pretended to care, but I didn't want her sympathy. I just wanted someone to talk to. I wanted someone…like me. Yes, I know it's weird, but I wanted to talk to Mr. J. He's the only person in Gotham who understands what I'm going through. I know what you're going to say: he's a murderer.

He's not, you know. The Joker is, but Mr. J isn't. He's different. He's been hurt. He was abused and called a freak. Now you're going to say he's a schizophrenic.

Well, he may just be. But that kind personality could come out if we just gave him a chance. But no. Instead, we try to blow him up or gun him down, or send Batman after him. He'll just strike back if you do that, and he hits a lot harder than you can. Trust me. I would know. By calling him a freak or trying to put him in jail, Gotham's turned him into a monster.

Anyway, back to business: I'm starting to heal. I can feel it in my mouth. If my science book was correct, I should be getting out these stitches sometime soon. If I could get a doctor (or some scissors), that'd be great. See? I can ask nicely.

Just curious, who all reads this? Probably Dr. What's-her-name. Maybe…I don't know. Do the police read the criminal psychos' diaries? I mean, you have to admit, some weird crime comes from Arkham. First there was that guy with the burlap mask. It was all over the news. And yes, I know about who else was here. I noticed something that didn't make sense before I came here. In The Joker's apartment, there was an old article about Arkham on the floor. He was here, wasn't he? He must've been. Why would he be interested in the news unless it was about him? Oh, you people. I wonder what room he was in. He couldn't have been a criminal when he was in here. Then, his name would be in the title of the article. No, he was here before that. Weird.

-Harley

September 15th

Today was the best day I've ever had at Arkham. Oh my goodness, it was great. First thing in the morning, my guard woke me up and told me someone was coming in to take out my stitches. I was so excited. (Thank you, by the way.) That got done pretty fast. Didn't hurt at all.

Then, when I was in the shower today, I realized something. _I was singing. _Me. In here. Singing. Wow! Things were looking up. I don't even know what I was singing, but it was something. It sounded happy. That's all I care about. Maybe I'm not totally losing my sanity. I mean, what crazy person sings in the shower?

I got back to my room, and there it was. In the new guard's hand was the thing I had been waiting for. It was a letter from Mr. J! New guy handed me the letter, and I tore it open. It read:

My little Harlequin-

Heard they took you to Arkham. Don't worry about it. I'll get you out of there, kid. Then, you'll work for me. No option. I have a plan. All you have to do is cozy up to the new guard. I took care of the old one for you.

-J.

Yes! He's coming for me. Just like I thought. Sure, I have to work for him, but I want to get to know him a little bit. I'm curious. Then, maybe, I'll find a way out. Besides, he took care of that guard for me. Granted, his methods weren't that legal, but still…

Getting the new guard on my side isn't a problem. He already introduced himself. I flirted with him a little today. He told me his name's Cody. It's crazy. Someone can see this face and still be intrigued. Maybe I don't look that bad anymore. Maybe I'll look in the mirror tomorrow.

Oh. I just realized. I probably shouldn't share that letter with anybody. I think I'll hide this diary tonight. Finally, a private space for my thoughts.

Today really was amazing.

-Harley

September 16th

Today sucked. Figures, since yesterday was an AMAZING day. I looked in the mirror. I hated what I saw. Instead of horrible black stitches, there were horrible pink scars. What's worse is, it's not going to change. I'm done healing, and I still look like this. I'm beginning to hate mirrors.

Then, (surprise, surprise!) the Batman paid me a visit. He said he needed that letter, the one from Mr. J. I told him he couldn't have it. "Where is it?" he yelled in his growly voice. I couldn't help but laugh. He sounded so stupid.

"You know what, Batsy? I just don't remember," I answered smirking.

"Why are you protecting him, after all that he did to you? He'll cast you aside like everyone else. You're nothing to him."

"Shut up! He didn't do anything!" I screamed, tears rolling down my face. I didn't look at him. He moved closer to me, lowering his voice to almost a whisper.

"Harley, listen to me. He's using you. After he gets all he needs, he'll kill you."

"Don't pretend like you care! All I am to you is another criminal to beat the crap out of for your evidence. You're no hero. You're just as bad as The Joker. Mr. J's coming to get me out of here, and when he does, you better watch your back."

He was quiet for a second, like he was thinking about something. I walked over to my bed and sat down. I tried to pretend Batman wasn't in my room, but he stuck out like a sore thumb. What's crazier than a guy dressed up like a bat?

He left without another word to me. He took my guard down the hall, though. I assumed he was asking him about the letter or my condition. I figured I'd have a chat with Cody later about it.

When Cody came back, I tried to get it out of him. He just said, "As much as I'd love to tell you, I'm really not supposed to. I shouldn't even be talking to you."

I gave him a playful push. "But you did. I'm so glad you did. You're the only cute guy around here." That was a complete lie, but he bought it.

"Really? Well, you're the cutest crazy I've ever met."

_Ugh, come on!_ I thought. I wished he would just hurry up and tell me. "Is that so?" I giggled. "Just how many crazies have you met?"

"Counting you?" he asked. I nodded. "One."

I faked a laugh. He was SO annoying. "So this is your first job as a guard?" Maybe I could get some info on him or Arkham.

"Well, somewhere like this it is. I don't know how I got it. I'm not nearly as qualified as some of these guys."

"I wouldn't have guessed that," I said. _Just a few more days of stroking his ego, Harl, and you'll have all the info you want. You can do that. _I told myself.

"Oh, no. These guys are hardcore. Arkham is totally high security. After all those weird criminals coming through here..." His voice trailed off. It was awkwardly silent. "So what's with that letter you got? Batman said it was from The Joker." I bit my lip, trying not to do anything stupid.

"Batman was mistaken. That's from my friend," I retorted, sounding a little angry. I tried my best to hide it, but my acting experience only goes as far as high school. He saw right through it.

"Don't get snappy. It's alright. I don't want to have to come in there," he said with a laugh.

_I don't want you to either, _I thought. "I'm fine. He just…" I thought of something to say that wouldn't be suspicious. "I guess he scares me a little. Like, he's accusing me of stuff I didn't do." That was true for Mr. J.

"Don't worry about him. He's only here to help."

"How did he even know about the letter?" I wondered aloud.

"I assume he heard about your encounter with the Joker and decided to keep an eye on you."

_Stalker, _I thought. "Alright, I'm going to take a nap for a while. You know, to calm me down a little." I was so tired of him.

"Ok. Sweet dreams, Harley," he chuckled.

" 'Kay," I responded.

-Harley

September 17th

Compared to other days, this was pretty mundane. I did manage to get some info out of Cody though. I did that first thing in the morning so I could relax the rest of the day.

"Hey," I said groggily. I meant _first _thing.

"Hey. What are you doing up so early?" he asked.

"Huh? Oh, I don't know. I just felt like talking to somebody." I smiled.

"Well, go ahead," he laughed.

"I don't know about Batman. Like, was he saying stuff about me to you?" I asked innocently.

He answered, "Uh, not really. He just was asking about the letter and stuff."

"Anything else? I'm really scared about it."

"Um, he asked about that diary you have."

"What about it?" I just remembered I had decided to keep it. "They took it away."

"Oh. He wanted to see it, monitor your progress I guess. See? He's trying to help. But I guess if they took it, he'll have to talk to Dr. Davenport."

"How do you know about her?" I asked.

"I have your file, remember?"

"Oh, right. I wonder what that says…"

"Now _that _is confidential," he said sternly.

"I know. I wasn't asking you to tell me." Really, I was, but I'll get it out of him. Eventually. He made some small talk. At least he tried to talk to me. It was better than some of these people…won't even look at me. But only one person truly can understand what I've been put through. We've been abused, confronted by the Bat, and been in Arkham. I hope he writes me another letter.

Back to my day. I had lunch (in cell, of course. I am banned from the cafeteria.). I thought a little bit about Mr. J's plan. I wondered how he was going to get me out. Cody said it was high security, but then again, so was the bank. If he can get in there, he can get me out. I'm also wondering what part Cody plays in all of this. Am I supposed to trick him into letting me out? Am I supposed to kill him? Well, whatever gets me out of here, I suppose. It's not like I can have a normal life after all this. I guess…I guess I give up. I'm done being Harleen. That life is over. I have found closure.

I guess today wasn't so bad after all.

-Harley

September 18th

I was talking to Cody again. He's keeping me up to date with the news. So far, Gotham's running scared from The Joker. He threatened to kill people every day until Batsy turns himself in. He already killed a fake Batman. I didn't even know there were fake Batmen…sounds like a cult. The Fake Batmen…

Anyway, maybe this is good. Maybe the Bat will turn himself in. One less thing to worry about, I guess. I do worry about Mr. J with Batman out there. I hope he doesn't hurt him any more than he already has. Batman's the one who brought all this on. He backed Mr. J into a corner and forced him to become this…horrible person. And in turn, it's made me a horrible person. I'm conscious of that, but it's weird. It's almost like…I don't mind being a horrible person. Well, I kind of mind…but it's not like I can go back! Once someone like Mr. J contacts you, in Gotham's eyes (and by Gotham, I mean Batman), you're contaminated. You're a freak. I guess…I am a freak. Makes sense, right?

Well, here's something that doesn't. I was going about my day as usual. I got out of the shower and put a towel around me. A purple towel. It was the same deep purple as Mr. J's coat. I imagined his arms around me, holding me with tenderness. I was almost giddy when I stopped myself. _What on earth am I thinking?! _I thought. _I can't love him. I don't love him. He's not… _

I stopped myself there. He _is _my type. He's the only person like me on the whole planet. I might…I think I might love him. No…I can't. Well…why can't I? My word! I do love him! I don't…want to…but I do. I don't even know why. I just…do. I _shouldn't _love him. I'm shocked at myself for loving him. But I do. I…I do.

-Harley

September 19th

He's done it again. The Joker killed some judge and the police commissioner this time. Cody gave me today's newspaper. J's all over the front page. He broke into Bruce Wayne's (you know, the guy who owns like, half of Gotham) party looking for Harvey Dent. I swear, this Dent guy is like Wunderkind or something. He's got half the mob in jail, but what the Joker wants with him, I don't know. Dent's fine now. He's back prosecuting some Chinese guy who works for the mob.

Guess who saved Dent and brought in the Chinese guy?

Yep, Batman. The masked vigilante. Breaking the law to do what's right. Seriously, they should just arrest him. You can't deal with people like the Joker. The only way to end this without people getting hurt is to do what he wants: get Batman to take off his mask. Show the world who he is. Me? I'm curious about the Bat, I have to admit. How he gets to scenes so fast, what he does during the day. More importantly though, what his objective is. This Batman guy is basically killing cops and lawyers every day he doesn't give up. Gotham's tired of him, and so am I.

When I get out of here, I'm going to follow him, see where he goes. Hopefully, I'll find where he lives and blow his big secret. First, I want to mess with his head, though. I bet he's some military guy. You have to have connections to have a suit and a car and whatnot. Maybe the reason the police don't arrest him is because he's some government official. Maybe it's Dent. Weird…

I don't know who he is, but he's not good for Mr. J. If he catches him, J'll get hurt. I just know it. I can't let that happen. I hope he comes for me soon. I could help him. I could protect him. I could heal him.

If someone could just get to know him better, maybe…he could open up. If he can be kind to me, he's more than capable of being kind to more. I could help him reach that. All he needs is motivation. I'm sure I'd think of something ;).

-Harley

September 20th

We have a problem. Cody thinks I'm his girlfriend. Here's what happened. I woke up like normal, made some small talk as usual and had breakfast. Cody gave me the paper. J tried to kill the mayor today, but some cop jumped in front of him. Apparently, the cop's dead.

Back to Cody.

I was just talking to him, trying to get some information out when he pulls out this stuff from nowhere: "What do you think about me?" I hesitated.

"Uh, I…well," I stammered. I was trying to think of something, _anything, _to say.

"I'm cute, right?" he asked. _You're the ugliest person I've ever seen._

"Yeah, for sure," I said.

"Well, I think you are, too…" That threw me off a little.

"But…why? I mean, I have these scars, and I'm a mess. Why me?"

"I don't know…you just…you're…accepting." _What a load of crap, _I thought.

"And other people aren't?" I asked innocently.

"I guess not. But you're…different from other people…" _That is, too. _Then, I thought about it some more.

"I guess I am." That wasn't a lie. I really am. I mean, who else could see the good in Mr. J? Who else could see through Batman's lies? I mean, I'm not like, full of myself or anything. I'm pretty far from self-esteem. But I guess…I am different.

My thoughts were interrupted. "So, we're kind of like, together, right?" This guy is clueless! But J said to cozy up to him, so it could be an advantage, somehow. I can't believe I said it, but I ended up saying yeah.

Maybe when he comes for me, I can have the honor of _taking care_ of my guard on my own…

-Harley

September 21st

I was right. I'm in utter shock right now. Dent _is _Batman. He turned himself in today. They locked him up somewhere.

I'm a little disappointed. I didn't get to spoil his secret. I didn't get to mess with his head. He turned himself in. What was he thinking? The entire city's angry with him! Mr. J has plans for him. He'll find him. He probably has already. As I write this, he probably is capturing Dent.

It's a perfect plan. He's being moved today. Cody told me; he saw it on the news. J's going to find him. Wow. Dent has practically committed suicide. I guess I'll read about it in tomorrow's paper.

Odd, no? He can't really be turning himself in, can he? He must know what he's doing. He knows what's going to happen. Surely he didn't want that…did he? Just days ago, as Batman, he was practically begging me not to be involved with J, but now he's doing that himself…well, he's not going about it the way I would.

For one, I wouldn't hand myself to him on a plate. Besides, J thinks of me as a partner now, not whatever Dent is. I would be a bit less weak, also. I'm not embarrassing myself with cops and cuffs and the like. I'm getting out of here _with_ J. It's like I'm sitting shotgun. Dent? He'd be in the trunk.

All I know for sure is he's not going to be the same. No one who comes in contact with J ever is. I changed for the better; Dent's going to end up worse. He'll be the hostage or the bait, or even plaything. But me? I'm partner, nothing less.

I guess when you come in contact with me, you're never the same either. You make a commitment, you keep to it. No one toys with me anymore. I can't allow that.

Oh, man, I can't wait to see him again.

-Harley

September 22nd

J is brilliant! So, he follows Dent, stops a truck full of armed guards, and snatches Dent. Then, the _real _Batman (I still have my chance…but I can't believe it's not Dent!) comes out of nowhere. He tries to get Mr. J, but J's so much better. He's got him when the cop that "died" earlier (James something?), pulls a gun on _my _J. Lucky for the cop, J got put in jail but made an…explosive escape. Dent's girl got blown to pieces and Dent's in the hospital half-dead. Wow. Kudos to J.

I mean, I'm not really condoning murdering people. But I'm not Harleen anymore. I have nothing but J to live for. He's it. I mean, I understand he won't settle down and have a family. But…he needs somebody. Obviously, he does. Otherwise, he wouldn't have made someone like him. He couldn't find anybody like him, so he had to make one. I just happened to be at the right place at the right time…well, I think. Unless he chose me…but why me?

I'm not that different. Am I? Plus, I'm _way _too young for him. But I don't care. That's because I need someone too. Right now, he's the only one that can be there for me. Even if there was someone else to be there for me, I love J.

I think I finally figured out why. I intrigue him, and that intrigues me. I'm curious about him. I want to get inside his mind, because…he's different. There's no mind on earth like his. He has untapped potential that needs a…motivating factor and that's me. I can help him. I know I can. He'll listen to me because now, I'm not scared of him. I won't flinch if he hits me. I won't scream if he hurts me. I'll hit back; I won't back down. And…gradually, he'll learn he can't break me. And then, he'll realize that we're the same.

Hopefully, he'll send me another letter or come soon. I miss him. It sounds weird, but something changes in the air when he's around. I remember when he pushed me in that room and he came in later. First, I smelled his cheap cologne. Then, I heard his footsteps. I got scared, of course, but I'm sure I won't be afraid next time. Then, I turned to look at him, even though I didn't want to. It's hard not to look at him. It's almost like you have to.

Well, I guess I should stop writing now. It's hard to hide it from Cody. I sent him to get water for me, but he'll be back soon.

-Harley

September 23rd

J needs me to bust him out of jail. Here's what happened. First of all, J blew up a hospital (which was cleared out first) because of something to do with Batman's identity. I think some guy was going to reveal it or something…I don't really remember. But Cody said that J said that Gotham was his by nightfall last night. Well, while police were confused by his message, he got two ferries rigged or something with bombs. He gave the ferries the detonator to the other boat (so smart!). He also did something with his leftover goons and hostages, but I skipped over a lot because of the front page. It shocked me.

"JOKER CAUGHT!"

Guess who caught him? Yep, the bat. He found him and saved the people and gave him to the S.W.A.T. team. I just hope he's okay. I only got the news tonight. I've got to make a plan, and I have to do it fast. To bust him out, I have to bust out first.

I'm going to work on it.

-Harley

September 25th

I got a letter from him yesterday. I was kind of excited when I opened it; it was going to be my adventure. It read:

"Harl-

I'm guessing you saw the news. Don't worry about me, doll. Come pay me a visit. I have something for you.

-J"

I had a plan all thought out of how to escape, so I got started as soon as the camera watching guards were about to change shifts. "Hey, Cody?"

"Mmm?" he looked up from the paper he was reading.

"You look tense. Is something bothering you?"

"I'm a little stressed, yeah," he replied.

"Cm'ere. Let me give you a massage," I said cheerily.

"Thanks, Harley!" he said as he walked towards where I was. I got up and stuck my hands through the bars. I started to massage his shoulders.

"Do you really want to know who J is?" I asked flirtily.

"I guess I'm kind of curious…" he joked.

"Batman was right. It is the Joker." I tightened my grip around his neck.

"Babe, you wouldn't!" he gasped. I got close to him and whispered in his ear.

"Don't bet on it." I snapped his neck before he could yell for help. I slowly brought him to the ground and grabbed his keys. I went on, unlocking my door and pulling him inside. I locked the door as I left, heading for the stairs. Only the elevators had cameras because only guards had keys to the stairwell.

I snuck down the hallway into the main lobby. There was a receptionist. I called the asylum from the phone in an empty office.

"Arkham Asylum," she answered brightly.

"Hi, there. This is…" I read the name on the desk. "Nancy Polinsky. Can you make me ten copies of the document sitting in the…" I made something up. "…blue file cabinet? The first document in there. I believe it is a visitors' form. Thank you." I hung up. As soon as she left, I crawled to hide behind her desk. I could see the outside world. Nothing stood between me and freedom besides the two guards standing outside, either side of the doors, but I had already thought of that. I knew about the camera system at the receptionist's desk. It had switches all over it. I picked one and turned it off. Sure enough, my plan worked. I saw one security guard pick up his two-way. He said something into it, then ran inside down the hallway. Only one. I sighed. I really didn't want double homicide on my shoulders, so I picked another switch. The other guard ran inside; I tore down the street. I didn't know where Gotham's high security prison was, but I knew it was somewhere in the Narrows. Fortunately, that's where Arkham was. I never stopped or looked back. I wasn't the first to try to escape, and they've caught a lot of loonies.

Finally, I found it. I ran to the gate. There was a security booth outside. I pulled up my collar, trying to hide my scars. I knocked on the glass. "Can I get in, please?"

"Visiting hours are over, sweetie. You can try back tomorrow," the guard answered sarcastically. I didn't plan for that. I had to improvise.

"I'm here to pick up a will from my dad," I said hopefully.

"Then you go around the side entrance to the office. But if I find out someone's escaped, you're my replacement."

"Fine with me," I sneered. I walked to the side door and entered. Quickly, a plan to see J came to me. I walked straight up to one of the officers.

"I'm here to see my dad," I said.

"There's no visiting hours here," she said, looking bored.

"What if I told you my dad was the Joker?" I asked. She looked up and laughed.

"If your dad's the Joker, then I'm the Commissioner." I reluctantly pulled down my collar.

"Believe me now?"

She did a double take. I closed my eyes and tried not to do anything to get me tossed in jail. "I'll take you to him," she said, "but before you go in, I've got to pat you down." I nodded. She did that, then ran one of those things you see at airports over me. Then she led me down a hallway. Before I could go into the room, she made me walk through a metal detector. She unlocked the door. My heart started to beat faster. I could smell him. I took a deep breath as she opened the door and closed it behind her.

"J!" I yelped. I ran to his cell. "Can I go inside?" I asked her. She looked at me with shock.

"You understand that we're not liable for whatever happens to you in there?" she asked.

I nodded as J gave her an angry look. He was chained to the wall. I couldn't help but giggle. He looked like a kindergartener in time out. She hesitantly unlocked his cell door, quickly opened it, and pushed me inside. No sooner had I gotten in then she closed and locked the cell door.

"Hi," he said, looking down. He was a sad sight to see, dressed in only his shirt, pants, and socks. He was still striking, though. I couldn't take my eyes off him if I tried.

"J…" I began quietly. I was a little scared, but I pushed myself. _Come on, Harley! You can do it! _I told myself. I asked confidently, "Why'd you choose me?" He looked up at me, making eye contact. I stared right back at him. He blinked as if he was surprised I was looking at him. I showed him no fear. His eyes wandered to my scars. His hand followed. I sat down to let him run his hand over them, unflinching. His hand felt different without his gloves. I liked it. I slowly brought my hand up to his face. I traced his scars the same way. His smudged makeup was getting on my hand, but I didn't mind it. He looked back in my eyes, intrigued.

He got close to me and whispered in my ear in a way that tickled my whole body. "Did you get my letters?"

I suddenly remembered. "What do you have for me?" I asked. He did something I never thought he would ever do. He grabbed my head and kissed me. I was surprised at him, but he kissed in the most passionate way I've ever felt. I kissed him back, surrendering to his charm. His arms wrapped around my waist; mine were around his neck. I felt his hair dye getting on my arms, but I didn't care. After a while, his head dropped. "I…I can't…" he said quietly.

_What?_ I thought. His eyes were fixed on the floor. I felt something drip on my leg. Was he…crying? "Why?" I wondered aloud.

"Look what I did to you," he said, still looking down, "and you came back. Why?"

I didn't know what to say. "Because…I…" I thought about saying it, but I knew I would hate myself for it the second I did, so I didn't tell him. I whispered, "I'm going to get you out of here…okay?"

"No," he replied deadpan. "Don't do it."

"Why not?" I asked. He didn't answer. "Why not?!" I asked again, frantically.

No answer. That didn't surprise me. After a silent minute, he said, "You and I both know I'm not getting out of here…"

"Don't say that," I pleaded tenderly.

"So I'm leaving everything to you," he finished.

"Please don't say that," I said with more force. I was holding back tears but trying not to show it. "You can't give up! You're all I have!" I started to yell.

"Get her out," he said calmly. The officer started to unlock the door.

"NO!" I screamed as she pulled me away.

"Bye, Harl. It was nice knowing you," he said casually. I started sobbing.

"PLEASE! DON'T!" I broke free of her and ran to him. I knelt down. He gently kissed me my scars before she got a hold of me again. I was still crying. She pushed me to the wall and locked his cell door. I tried to run back to him, but she got me again.

"Calm down!" she said, sternly. I ignored her. "Come on. Deep breath." I couldn't run anymore. My legs refused to move. My whole body stopped. I hugged her tightly and sobbed into her. She was nice enough to let me. "That's it," she said, leading me out of the room. I got one last peek at J. He mouthed "I love you." I squealed through my tears and blew him a kiss. He pretended to catch it with a slight smile. We waved goodbye to each other, mine sadder than his. I was a mess of emotions, being ecstatic that he loved me and devastated that I wouldn't see him again. The officer and I sat down on the floor outside the room. She gave me a look.

"Your father, huh?" she asked jokingly. I smiled a little, warm tears still streaming down my face.

"Thanks for letting me see him," I choked, not looking at her.

"No problem." I could tell she felt bad for me. That was all that was keeping me from being locked up. I was a mess, covered in his makeup and hair dye. My hair hadn't been brushed since the day before Arkham. My clothes were dirty from running. She pretended that I looked normal and walked me down the hall.

"Why'd you let me stay there when you found out I lied?" I asked.

"I was…curious," she replied. I gave her a confused look. "I wanted to see how he handled you. I guess he is capable of caring."

"Oh, he's capable of more than just caring," I responded with delight. I was still crying a little, but I was so glad he told me he loved me.

"You got makeup on your face," she chuckled.

"I know," I replied sadly. We arrived at a room with lockers in it; she unlocked one and gave me a key, his jacket, tie, vest, and shoes.

"What's this?" I asked.

"He said he was giving you everything, remember?" she said. "Well, that's all he had on him. Now you better get out of here before anyone finds out what I let you do." I nodded. She walked me out as I turned the key in my hand. I recognized it as the key to his apartment. She got me a taxi and paid him double not to ask any questions.

I had him drop me off a block away. I wasn't taking any chances. The cabbie asked for a tip, but I ignored him. After a long day, I just wanted to fall asleep in J's bed.

September 26th

I visited him again today. I wasn't going to, but I couldn't help myself. I wanted to see him, but he seemed…different. He was in a dark mood.

I got to the office I'd been to yesterday. The officer I'd met was sitting at her desk. I forgot I was wearing J's makeup and must've scared her half to death. She let out a scream as she saw me, then a sigh of relief. "Oh, it's just you," she gasped.

"Harley," I said trying not to laugh.

"Michelle," she responded as she shook my hand.

"That was my mom's name…" I hadn't thought about my mom for a while. Michelle noticed something was wrong and changed the subject.

"Here to see," she glanced around, "well, you know?"

"If it's not too much trouble." I have to admit, I felt bad for her. She was probably risking her job to let me see him. She and I walked together down the hallway, going through the whole security routine. She shifted her weight uncomfortably as we stopped. I felt like she wasn't telling me something.

"What's wrong?" I asked. She paused a moment.

"Nothing; don't worry about it." I wasn't about to let it go that easy, but I got distracted when she opened the door. J sat there, just like yesterday. He looked up at the sound of the door, a mischievous smirk crawling across his face at the sight of me. I pressed my face against the bars, then looked back at Michelle. She reluctantly opened the door to his cell, shoving me inside. Obviously, she was still scared of him.

"Hi again," I said. He didn't speak. He just sat there, smiling at me. "Are you alright?" I asked.

"Harley, Harley, Harley…" he began. "Happy to see me?" Something was different about him, but I couldn't place what. I just nodded innocently. He motioned to come closer. I bent down, expecting him to tell me something. Instead he backhanded me hard across the face. He knocked me to the ground. I lay there cradling my face. Michelle moved to the door.

"No, no," I told her. "I'm fine." _Be strong, Harl. Don't let him see you cry, _I thought to myself. "Why'd you do that?" I asked calmly, sitting back up.

He yelled back, "I thought I told you bye! Didn't I?"

"Y-yeah, you did," I answered trembling.

"So why are you here?!" he yelled. He moved to hit me again, but I slapped him first.

"No! Don't do that to me! I'm sick of it!" I pushed him away. He stared at me as I stood up, wiping his makeup off my hand. I tried to ignore him.

"You know, doll…if you ignore me, I'm not going away. You can't get rid of me that easy. You could try to-"

"Don't talk to me," I interrupted. He put a hand on my leg, but I moved out of his reach. "Not until you treat me better." He was being such a jerk today. Today, he wasn't J. He was the Joker. My thoughts were interrupted by the sound of clapping.

"You finally stood up for yourself, kid…" I glanced at him. It looked like he was genuinely proud of me. I took a cautious step closer to him. "Come on," he urged. I couldn't help myself. Why do I have to be so good to him? I sat next to him on the floor, a smile plastered on my face, and it wasn't just the scars. He put an arm around my waist, kissed my scarred cheek and said, "Harley baby, you're my queen of hearts, you know that?"

I squealed happily. It was amazing how he could hurt me so bad but make me feel so good. He was bittersweet, but the good was better than how bad the bad was…if that makes sense. You know what? We don't make sense. That's what's so fun about him. We don't _have_ to make sense. With him, I don't have to be polite or conform to everyone else's standards. I can just be. We can be misfits together, and the whole world can pass us by.

His hand brushed against my cheek. "You look nice like that," he said, noticing his makeup on me. I chuckled.

"You're sweet…when you want to be." He gave me a questioning look. I kissed him lightly on his scarred face. "I like that about you," I smiled. "I should probably go…" I said reluctantly. I started to get up, but his arm pulled tighter. "J…"

"No," he said childishly. He seemed kind of possessive of me, like I was his toy or something. I didn't like that idea.

"Let go, please," I said sweetly but sternly. He rolled his eyes and let go. "I'll come tomorrow if I'm allowed, okay?" He nodded. Michelle let me out, then locked the door. I remembered what I was going to ask her.

"Ok, what's going on?"

"Nothing," she answered. She wasn't a very good liar.

"You're not telling me something. What is it?" She heaved a sigh.

"Sit down," she said heavily. _Oh no…_I thought,_ bad news._ She sat next to me and put her hand on my shoulder. "I'm not quite sure how to tell you this, but…" she let her voice trail, thinking of words to say.

"What? What is it?" I asked frantically. I had a feeling it was something to do with J. I already knew what would happen, but I didn't want to believe it.

"No…no, I can't do it. I can't tell you. It's too much for you to handle."

"Please, Michelle, I am begging you…is he going to be ok?" She gave me a grave look. I felt like someone had punched me in the stomach. I tried to keep it together, but I could feel hot tears making their way to the corners of my eyes. "When are they…" I couldn't bring myself to finish. She knew what I was trying to say.

"He has till Saturday." It was Thursday.

"But he…they can't-" I stuttered, my voice breaking. She hugged me tightly. I sat with her for a while.

"Want me to walk you home?" she asked. I nodded. We walked out the door together. We were getting some looks, but I didn't care. I let her walk me as far as the financial district.

When we got that far, I told her, "I think I can make it from here."

"You sure? Do you need anything?" she asked. I was about to tell her I needed money, but if I told her that, she might get suspicious. I shook my head. She gently brushed the hair out of my face. "See you tomorrow, Harley?"

"Yeah," I responded blankly. I walked the rest of the way by myself, taking shortcuts through back alleys to avoid being seen.

Today was the last day I saw him. I walked to Gotham Penitentiary for the last time, sadness in my step. Michelle was at the door waiting for me.

"How are you holding up?" she asked nervously. I was a mess. I hadn't showered since I left Arkham and I was wearing his makeup and his coat over my scrubs from the asylum.

"I'm fine," I lied. After the security procedures, she walked me straight to his cell and unlocked the door again. I didn't bother saying hi. I just sat next to him on the floor.

After a long silence, he said, "You came." I didn't say a word. My eyes were fixed on the floor to keep myself from losing it in front of him. He gently lifted my chin to look at me. I looked away, trying desperately hard not to make eye contact. "Hey…look at me," he whispered. I started to cry. He put his arms around me. "Shh…it's alright…" he said gently. I hated myself for crying in front of him, but he was good at comforting me. He wiped my tears away with his sleeve and gave me a kiss on the cheek. He really loved kissing my scars. I was going to miss that.

"I don't want to say goodbye," I choked. He ran his hand through my hair. I clung to him tightly and laid my head on his chest. I was exhausted. My emotions had taken a beating since the day I met him. He made me so…crazy, but I loved him. I really did.

We sat for a while, silent. He muttered something.

"What?" I asked.

"I'm not alone." Why did he say that? Did he feel alone?

"No," I said, looking up at him. "You're not." I squeezed his hand. He looked down at me with a smile, brushing my hair out of my eyes.

"You should go," he said.

"No…" I replied, "I can't."

"Come on, Harl," he said tenderly. "You have to." He was right. He kissed me one last time. I got up sadly. "Harley?"

"Yes?"

"You're my queen of hearts." I blew him a kiss. He caught it like he did the first time and held it to his heart.

Michelle led me out. She took me down to the financial district again. This time, not a word was spoken until we got there.

"Here's my number," she said handing me a paper, "Call me if you ever need me."

"I will," I said. She was about to leave. "Michelle?" I called out. She turned around. I hugged her. "Thank you for being so nice to me."

"No problem." She and I parted ways. I went back to J's only to struggle through a sleepless night.

The sun shone through the curtains, but I stayed in bed. Never once did J leave my mind.

I sat there for hours, crying my eyes out. I wanted to die. I was surrounded by him; his clothes, his bed, his cards. I missed him already. I was crying so much that I made myself throw up. I just sat in his bathroom, thinking. He was all I had; now I have nothing.

No, I have _something. _Burning deeply inside me is the rage he first instilled in me. I couldn't take it anymore. I wanted revenge. I didn't care from that point on what happened to me. I had to hurt whoever was responsible. Batman.

He turned him in. If that never had happened, he would be alive…with me.

I searched his apartment for something, _anything, _I could use. It was hard to find anything in his apartment. Everything was hidden except cards and knives. What could I use?

I found a taser. I could stun the Bat unconscious and drag him somewhere. I'd have to trick him into coming to me, though.

It was dark by the time I had it all figured out. Perfect. I knew the Bat was nocturnal. I went out in J's vest and coat. I kept his makeup on me. I liked the feeling.

I had to get Batsy to come to me, so I decided to stage a break in. I threw a rock at a bank window, hoping he would turn up soon. I got all worked up for my performance and waited.

He turned up, right on time. I ran over to him. "Harley?" he asked. I pretended to cry.

"I have to talk to you," I sobbed. "They killed him!"

"Calm down. What are you talking about? Aren't you supposed to be at Arkham?"

"Yeah, but I got out. I had to see you. I need your help." It sickened me to say that. I reached into J's pocket. "They killed him!" I kept saying.

"Slow down. Killed who?" he asked. I stepped into the light.

"Guess." I brought the stun gun to his chest. He went down surprisingly quickly. I made sure he was totally out. I'll skip a few hours, to when he woke up. That's when the fun began.

He was dazed and very confused. He struggled, realizing he was tied up on a rooftop. I walked calmly over to him. "Anyone tell you how cute you are when you're not in an asylum?" I asked, teasing. I was casually strolling around, keeping him guessing.

"What do you want with me?" he asked. I laughed.

"I want a lot of things, Bats." I walked circles around him.

"What did he do to you?" I spun around and pressed J's knife to his throat.

"No! What did you do to him?!" I felt powerful. My adrenaline took over from there. He stayed quiet. "Now, Batty, you're forgetting. I make the rules up here. One flick of the wrist…"

"I didn't do anything he didn't deserve." I kicked him hard.

"You drove him to be what he was! If you would've left him alone-"

"Gotham would be in ruins!" he interrupted.

"No!" I shouted. "He'd be with me!" I stopped myself from getting carried away or I might've killed him then. It had to be slow. Slow and painful.

I got down to eye level with him. "You really want to know what he did to me?" I asked him. "He made me like him; I'll admit, that means I'm corrupt. I'll admit that means I'm mental! See, that's the difference between you and me. I admit that I'm wrong, but you pretend to be a hero."

"I'm not a hero," he said. I was getting tired of this.

"Then what are you, huh? That's what I want to know! I can't let you die until I make your life miserable! Just…like…mine!"

"You won't find out." I laughed at him.

"Do you honestly think I need you to tell me? I'll know. I'll know because tomorrow, you'll be the person in Gotham with this," I told him, cutting his face slightly. I didn't want to scar him. What's the fun if everyone knows? No, I needed this. He was mine. But my plan wasn't to see who had the cuts on his face. That was for his benefit. I'd follow him later.

"Now, you can try to make up a story but we'll both know the truth." I whispered in his ear, "Our little secret." I licked the blood off him and spat it in his face. "I'll see ya around, Batsy!" I untied him ever so slightly and stunned him again. He passed out as he walked me skip away. I giggled at him and popped my foot.

I went back to J's apartment. I turned the shower on as cold as it would go and just stood there, watching his makeup dripping down the drain.

When I woke up the next day, I felt like something was missing. I touched my face. It wasn't the same. I needed his makeup on me to remind me that he loved me. I guessed it was in his bathroom. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and whimpered. I was scared of what I might see, but I had to be brave. I closed my eyes and turned to it. I opened them and was surprised. I liked what I saw. I looked like he did. Mirrors didn't bother me anymore. I touched my face again, laughing.

I found his makeup. I decided to be a bit cleaner than him with it, though. I covered my scars with a thin line of blood red. I darkened my eyes. I was pretty happy with it. I won't wear it _all_ the time, but when I can…

I walked back towards his room, passing a door that looked familiar. Turning the knob cautiously, I stumbled in. There was blood on the floor. My blood. I turned away. Too many painful memories lay in that room. I haven't gone in there again.

Over the next few days, I stole what I needed. I didn't have any money, and therefore, no choice. While I was at it, I got myself clothes, too. They were all red and black, just like a harlequin. My skirt was red on the right, black on the left. I wore a red tank top under a black one. I took off on the whole deck of cards thing. I improved my whole look. I miss him a lot, but I'm doing pretty well most nights. Some nights I'm a wreck, but I can deal with it. I just put on his coat, sit in a corner, and cry.

I felt strange today. It wasn't guilt. At least, I don't think it was. I don't know. I decided to get out for a while. It was cold outside, so I had an excuse to hide my face. I put on his coat and went to the nearest store to get a scarf. It was red. I walked around the street, occasionally stopping at stores just to look around. I made the awful mistake of stopping in a bookstore. (A/N: these lines shouldn't be there)

There was J's picture in the paper…and the headline…

It celebrated his death. It mocked my pain. That newspaper made him seem like garbage. It hurt me more to see that than the one bad day that turned me into Harley.

My whole world was down the toilet that day. My identity, my family, my face…my sanity. Everything was gone. But this hurt more. Seeing the one person in the world who cared about me…who loved me…dead. It was the most terrifying thing in the world. I realized that Gotham had conned me into thinking that my life was almost going to be ok, that I could recover from this. It was all a lie. He was my last hope. I kicked over the pile of newspapers, which got me kicked out of the store. _Nice job, Harley! _I thought to myself. Today was a sit in the corner and cry day.

Last night, I saw Batsy on J's street busting a drug dealer around 10. He got in his car, so I watched from the window discreetly. He turned right. Nothing is down there but some shipping yards. It's pretty strange for Batman to want to go there, so I went down earlier. I thought maybe there was a warehouse or something, but there wasn't. There was a fence with a notice on it saying that it was private property of Wayne Enterprises. I ignored it. I'm in enough trouble already, so something that minor wouldn't even matter. The only thing to be seen was shipping crates. That's all there was. I don't know what to think about that. Maybe he was just busting somebody there; maybe there's something else. I'll keep checking up on him.

Today, I got a clue about this whole Batman thing. It's not anything for sure, but I'm planning to keep an eye on it. I was walking around the street again when I saw the news on a TV in a store window. There was that guy, Bruce Wayne, again. It was something to do with the stocks at Wayne Enterprises. I almost walked past it, when I noticed something. He had a cut on his face. It was tiny, hardly even noticeable, but it was there. How would a billionaire cut his face? It wasn't a shaving cut. It was clean and pretty much straight. Could he be the bat man? It explains a lot. He has all that money for his stuff. And he did get to Wayne Manor pretty fast when J was there.

I have been desperately trying to follow this guy around for a week now, but someone like Bruce Wayne doesn't just go waltzing down the middle of Gotham. He's a hard guy to find. Batsy, however, sticks out like…well, like a giant bat. They're like two different people. Maybe they are. It is possible that Wayne isn't him. Bruce Wayne's a busy guy, right? Maybe I'll check out what he's been doing. If he only does business during the day, he could be the Bat. I'll see what I can do. If I can escape Arkham, I can find Batman.

So today, I saw what I wasn't expecting to see: me. On the news. They're trying to find me. They were showing surveillance tapes from J's cell. Guess that secret's out. So according to them, I'm some insane harpy bent on taking over the world. That is what we call libel. I don't need to go to Arkham. Or jail. I just need J back or Batman dead. Or both. That'd be wonderful.

I've been following Bruce Wayne for a few days now. I don't have much to go on, but he's throwing a masquerade in two weeks at his penthouse. I'm planning on going. Somehow, I'm going to find a way to get Batman there. If Wayne disappears when Batsy's there, I'll know that it's him. I'll have to get a costume, though, and I've got just the idea…

It was agony. I was missing J more than usual, finding myself halfway down the street, fully intent on going to visit him. I stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, remembering that he wouldn't be there. My lip trembled. I ran into the nearby alley to cry. A moment later, footsteps followed me in. I hid behind the dumpster. "Are you alright?" a voice asked, closer than I thought.

Gasping in surprise, I yelled back, "Don't come any closer!" Instinctively, my head dropped. It was someone from Arkham; I was sure of it. Yet the footsteps continued. A hand fell on my shoulder. I pulled away. "Go away," I muttered through tears. Their shadow moved. Not knowing they were still there, I looked up. A scream echoed through the alley. Sure, I wasn't wearing his makeup, but to Gotham, I was still a freak. I stood, trying to quiet the pursuer.

"Stay back!" they yelled.

"Look, I'm just-"

"Get away!" I had had enough of this. Spinning them around, I pressed J's knife to their throat.

"I don't want to do this. I really don't. But lately, Gotham hasn't been treating me well. Today hasn't been a very good day. Do you really want to tick me off?"

They gave a quiet, scared "no."

"Good. Now I'm going to let you go, but if you tell _anyone _about this, you will become my newest hobby. Understand?" With that, I loosened my grip. They took off, not once looking back. After that, I went home to my corner.

My suspicions are pretty much confirmed. Here's what happened at the party…

I arrived in a red dress and full face mask. Cheesy as it was, my costume was harlequin inspired. There was Alfred, apparently Wayne's butler. He seemed like a nice enough guy. I got to speak with him for a little while, posing my questions as small talk.

"So when do you get to enjoy the party?" I asked, smiling behind the mask.

"When all the guests leave," he answered with a laugh.

"Well, that's a shame. Does Mr. Wayne not leave you in charge once in a while?"

"Only when he's enjoying the night life, I suppose. Parties, premieres, all the like…you know how these billionaire types are," he chuckled. "But Master Wayne needs a bit of fun to balance out all the work."

It wasn't much, but I had something. Sure, he was out a lot, but I hadn't seen any pictures of him in the tabloids or the newspapers when they covered major events. I kept it in the back of my mind for later and made my way over to the balcony. I would wait for the bat signal and see if Mr. Wayne had any "pressing engagements" worth leaving for. It wasn't a long wait, maybe an hour. Walking back out to the main area, I watched for him.

He whispered something to Alfred. Alfred nodded. Then, as if he was a guest, he just headed out the door. I followed discreetly. He looked around, then opened a tile on the wall and got in. He closed it behind him.

I got the answer I needed.

Over the last few days, I've been thinking of how to get Wayne's attention. Like I said before, he's hard to find. Perhaps a message…

The new bat signal is on top of the penitentiary where J was. Can I bring myself to go there again? I know somehow, I'd end up in J's cell, even if it's just to pretend he's there with me. And how would I even find the resources in here to send my little message?

I suppose J has stashes of stuff hidden in here…I mean, he did set off numerous bombs before. Who's to say I can't now? I'll do it…but only for him. I'm not sure how I'll get inside though.

And there's Michelle…she's been so nice to me. I can't hurt her. Then again, if J had asked me to, I could've done worse. But J didn't ask me to, so I won't hurt Michelle, even if she is one of _them_.

I'll ask her to meet me someplace, but I won't show. So she'll be okay, and there's no chance of ambush. But how am I going to place it?

I guess I can walk to the office and stick it outside on a timer. That'll have to work; I'm not exactly experienced in these things.

Tomorrow's the big day. I finally found all I needed stashed away in J's apartment and put it together. I called Michelle earlier from a pay phone. Here's how it went.

She answered, seemingly aware that it was me on the other line. "Hello?"

"Hey, Michelle. It's Harley," I said, trying to sound a little shaken.

"Are you ok?"

"I just need to talk to you. Can I meet you tomorrow?"

"Sure," she responded. There was a pause, as if she was talking to someone else. "How about the coffee place on 5th Avenue?"

"Okay, but no cops."

"I can't promise anything, Harley. You weren't exactly honest with me about Arkham."

Surprised, I asked her, "How do you know about Arkham?"

"You've been on the news. They're trying to find you."

"Please, Michelle. I just need to talk to you. Tomorrow at 3:30. No cops, or I'm not going." At least I gave her some warning that I probably wouldn't be there. She paused, then answered.

"Fine." I hung up. It was all working out better than I had expected. I managed to plant it without trying to get inside, though it was difficult, and Michelle would be out of the building. It had some cards on top for a personal touch. Now, all I have to do is set it off tomorrow.

Today was the day. I waited til 3:40, just in case Michelle had run late. I had a hard time trying. It almost took me five minutes just to put my hand on the trigger, but I did it. I don't feel good about it, but I did it. No going back now.

I tried to rationalize. There were probably a bunch of cops outside the coffee place. Michelle was safe. So, I didn't hurt a lot of people. Just criminals, security guards…and their families. Their kids, parents, wives, husbands…what did I do?

Why? Why did I have to kill all those people? What made me think I would get away with that? Oh, gosh, I'm a mass murderer. What the crap was I thinking?

I could barely stand myself. I couldn't even look in the mirror. What I had become sickened my former self…but I had to remember.

I'm not Harleen anymore. I'm getting justice for someone who can't get it himself. Batman has to pay a price. Gotham has to pay for what they turned my J into. That's why I have to stop being so selfish and put my guilt aside. Gosh, what's wrong with me?

I was walking along the street at like, 3 last night, just trying to clear my head, when a dark figure appeared in front of me. Batman. It was almost scary how he knew where I was.

"What do you want?" I sneered. He grabbed my arm.

"Do you know how many people you killed?" he yelled. I struggled to get free.

"Couldn't help that, Bats. I needed your attention."

"You've got it now. What do you want?" he growled.

"I know who you are, Bruce," I answered smirking. He loosed his grip immediately, stepping back like I was a snake. "Oh…did I strike a nerve?" I taunted.

"You have to stop this before anyone else gets hurt," he said, grabbing me by the shoulders. I ran my tongue along the inside of my mouth, feeling my scars.

"Is that supposed to scare me? You can't touch me. I'm just a kid, Batsy." I nodded to his arms. "How's that going to look to a judge?"

"I think the judge will understand when they see the tapes from the prison." He had me there, but I wasn't about to let him know it. I sighed.

"I'm the victim here, Bruce. I'm the one with the scars." He twitched a bit at the mention of his name. His hands moved off my shoulders.

"You'll get caught, Harley. Like you said…you're just a kid." He moved to leave.

"Let's do this again sometime, Bats!" I called after him. A paper fluttered to the ground, seeming to come from the Bat. I picked it up and took it home, laughing all the way.

Today, I read the paper that Batman dropped. It said:

Harley-

I'm ok. Meet me on the top of the precinct at six tomorrow. I'll be waiting.

-Mr. J

At first, they almost had me, but there were quite a few things wrong with this letter. One, he never called me Harley, at least not in writing. Two, he almost always called me doll or kid or something to that effect. And finally, he _never _refers to himself as Mr. J. I am the only one who's ever called him that. So, I concluded that the letter came from the police, who have obtained a copy of my diary from Arkham. At least they only had up to J's first letter. After that, I never let this diary out of my sight.

It calms me, I suppose. Sometimes I forget that nobody reads it. Well, it's always comforting to pretend. It's all I have that's actually mine and not J's or stolen. Well, technically it's stolen from Arkham, but it's my words and therefore, my diary.

Anyway, they've lowered themselves to trickery, which means they're at their wit's end. The only thing they have left to get me is Batman, who I can easily manipulate into thinking that I've gone soft and want help. After all, I'm a kid. Bruce Wayne has a heart, right?

They know. The police know where I am. They don't know which building, but they found the street. I guess it's the phone booth. They must've tracked it.

It hurt me to know that Michelle wasn't on my side anymore. How could she betray me like that? Then again, with the incident at the prison…

Sooner or later, they'll find me. I'll be stuck at Arkham again, or in prison. There wouldn't even have to be a trial. I'd face the death penalty. It'd all be over.

Nothing would matter. All the progress I've made, finding out who Batman is, meeting J…it wouldn't even matter anymore. I can't let that happen. How did J get away with all the stuff he did?

I need him. I need him to hide me and help me get away with all this. I need him to be there for me. Why did he have to die?

I could've saved him, but he wouldn't let me. I shouldn't have listened to him. I should've just done it anyway. It's my fault he's dead.

Last night wasn't the best night. After writing all that, I couldn't stop thinking. My mind dwelled on those words: "It's my fault he's dead." I couldn't handle it anymore. I needed to be outside.

It was raining, which was usually a great comfort, but not tonight. I watched his makeup falling off me, the red like blood on the ground. I stood sobbing, when a shadow passed over the alley behind me.

I turned to see who was there. Nothing. Footsteps pattered through the rain behind me. My heartbeat quickened. I turned to look again, but saw nothing but a dark shadow. I ran as fast as I could from the alley. The footsteps followed. I kept running around different blocks until I was sure I lost my pursuer. I got back inside, gasping for breath and soaking wet.

I peered out the curtains to make sure no one was there. I was safe for now. Flopping down onto the bed, I let myself drift off to sleep.

Today, I woke up and thought that I'd pay Batman a visit today. It's taken a while, but I've resolved my guilt over J's death and decided that I am only partially responsible. The other people responsible would be Batman and the entire Gotham City Police Department.

Since Batsy hated it when I called him Bruce, I decided to torment him when he's Bruce Wayne. It's fun to see him squirm when I use his real name. Before I could just waltz out in broad daylight, I had to disguise myself a little, at least til I got to Wayne Enterprises. Since I couldn't go around the street anymore with the cops on duty, I searched J's apartment for something to wear, along with a few surprises for Bruce.

Everything that I've obtained so far is either red or black, but I do have some normal looking stuff. I was going to Wayne Enterprises, so I went a little dressier than normal, wearing a black pencil skirt and a red button-up shirt. I did my eye makeup, but I brought the rest along to do later. I had to look somewhat normal. I wore my red scarf again, pulling it up just enough to hide my face.

I took the bus to the monorail system, which leads to Wayne Tower. The inside of Wayne Tower is huge and decorated. Personally, I think it looks like the Capitol building in DC. I walked up to the secretary, who happened to be a guy. Weird, no?

Anyway, I asked him if I could see Bruce Wayne, but he didn't seem to hear me. He wasn't looking at my face, if you get what I'm saying. I took advantage of that.

"Excuse me? I said I'd like to see Mr. Wayne," I asked politely as possible.

"Oh, sorry," he looked up something on his computer. "Uh, it looks like he's in a meeting right now." I sighed.

"I really needed to see him today. I was supposed to turn in my intern application directly to him," I pouted. The secretary smiled.

"I'm sure he'll be out soon."

"Couldn't I see him? It'd just be a minute." He smiled again.

"Well, if it's only a minute, I guess you could go in. Wait just one second." I drummed my fingers on the desk. He pressed a button on his desk, which I assumed opened the glass door to the right. "Ok. Just go through the door until you see the elevator. It's the first room on the eighth floor."

"Eighth floor, huh? Very fancy."

"Well, Mr. Wayne likes his luxuries." I giggled. This guy reminded me of Cody. Ugh. "So what's with the scarf?"

"Oh, that. I'm a little bit sick. Just came back from a pretty bad cold. I wouldn't want to infect my new boss, would I?"I said, turning to walk away. He chuckled. I turned back to say thank you then proceeded through the glass door.

I went into a bathroom and finished off my makeup. I went on to the elevator. As soon as the door closed, I started getting ready. I took off my scarf and strapped a .357 from my purse on my leg holster. I hid a knife in the back of my belt and put all the stuff I wasn't using back in my purse.

Just in time. The elevator door opened. I threw my purse behind a plant and made my grand entrance to the meeting.

"Hi, boys! What are you doing here? Merger?" I got some blank stares. "Oh, sorry. Don't let me interrupt. Please continue. I'll just have a seat…um…here." I sat down on the table right in front of Bruce Wayne.

Bruce pressed the intercom. "Ron, call security." I hiked up my skirt and pulled out the gun.

"I don't think so." It was kind of fun to see everybody in the room flinch. All these suits suddenly seemed a bit more human. Well, except Bruce. He didn't flinch. I suppose he expected that, darn him.

"Look, um…Harley, isn't it?" he asked. I smiled at his efforts to pretend he didn't know me. "You really don't need to do this. Why don't you just put the gun away and leave, and we won't press charges?"

"Oh, Bruce…why would I do that? I came all this way just to see you. And you know something? You're really cute in person," I said, pinching his cheek. He shot me an annoyed glance.

"Ok, why don't you keep me and let everybody else go?"

"I can't do that. Then I won't have anybody left when you're gone. So, um…" I scanned the room for a familiar face: Coleman Reese. "You. You stay. Everybody else, out now. Now!" I waved the gun around for some effect. It was easier than I thought. I turned to Reese. "Now, Coleman…you and my J were close, weren't you?" I pressed the gun to his head, just to make him nervous. The safety was still on, but he was sweating. He wouldn't say anything. I took the safety off. "Oh, Cole. Talk to me. A little heart-to-heart. No? Okay, then." I started to pull back the hammer. Bruce moved closer to me.

"Harley, no!" I smiled. That was the sound I wanted to hear. I turned to Bruce, keeping J's gun on him.

"So now you-" I was interrupted by him pulling me aside by my arm(quite forcefully, might I add). "Take your hand off me before I shoot it off." He obeyed. It felt good to be in control of something.

"Harley, this has to stop."

"Actually, no it doesn't. That's the beauty of being the one with the gun."

"There are probably hundreds of cops out there right now waiting for a clear shot at your head. Don't do this. You don't need this."

"Yeah, I do. Do you know what you did to me? There was hope before J was dead. Sure, everything else was gone, but I had him to make it all better. He could've taken care of me."

"We both know he'd kill you without a thought."

"You don't know that. He loved me!"

"What did he tell you? Did he say you were different? Tell you he wasn't going to be alone anymore? They're all lies, Harley. That's what he does." Angry tears streamed down my face.

"No. No, they're not!" I cocked the gun. Anger took over from there.

"Calm down, Har-"

"Don't tell me to call down! You took my life away! He was it, and now he's gone!"

"I don't want to have to hurt you."

"Then don't. I want out of here, no cops."

"Okay."

"I want your phone."

"Fine." He reached into his pocket and put it on the floor, kicking it towards me. I took it carefully. The office phone rang in the room.

"Answer it." He picked up the phone.

"It's for you." I stared at it for a second.

"Nope. You said I was getting out of here. I want out, unscratched and alive." He was silent, looking at me with pleading eyes. I didn't care.

"Fine." I pointed the gun at Reese, who looked nervously at Bruce. He reluctantly picked the phone up again.

"I'm fine. She's going to leave, and we're not pressing charges. Hold on just one second." He turned to me. "I can get you help. Do you want that?"

"Does that mean I can leave without going to jail or Arkham?" He nodded. I considered his deal. I would get out ok, right? But what if it was a trap? "I just want to go home."

"Promise me that you're not going to do this anymore." I nodded with no intention of stopping anything. He talked to the person on the phone. "Let her go home. I'll pay bail, if that's what it takes."

I heard the distorted sound of the person on the other line: "Are you sure?"

"Yeah." I was astonished. He actually trusted me…idiot. But he let me go. "I'm going to need that gun."

"No tricks?"

"No tricks."

"Promise?" He nodded. I slowly went behind Reese and handed the gun to Bruce. He seemed like a different person than Batman. I liked this different person. I almost forgot that he was responsible for J's death. I just…couldn't kill him when he was Bruce.

I wheeled the chair Reese was in all the way to the door, using him as a human shield. I just picked up my bag, got in the elevator and left without a problem. Of course, I didn't just go through the front door. I went up to the roof and climbed down the fire escapes in the back. But still, I got out okay. Bruce Wayne trusted me. That I could use. Batman had a soft spot for me.

Having Bruce Wayne's phone was quite the asset. I had the name and number of pretty much everyone he came in contact with, but everyone doesn't narrow it down much. That's why I checked his speed dial.

Number 1…Rachel Dawes. J killed her already; it was on the news. Number 2…Alfred Pennyworth. Well, Bruce made quite a jump from personal life to professional life. Or did he? Alfred seemed like a nice guy. Maybe he was a father figure to Bruce.

I decided to work on Alfred first, though I really didn't want to hurt him. He was such a sweet guy at the party. Maybe I could trick Bruce into thinking I would go after him. I could leave a Joker card in Alfred's room in the penthouse. Or I could actually threaten Alfred himself. Word would reach Bruce, thus angering him and worrying him. I love my job.

It took a while to get to the penthouse that night, since I took all the backstreets when wearing makeup. I poked around so that I could find a service elevator. Besides Bruce's special elevator, that was the only way into the penthouse. I arrived at the top to find Alfred sitting in the kitchen having a glass of wine. He hadn't seen me yet, but assumed I was one of the cleaning people.

"How are you today, Greta?" I was silent. I crept up behind his chair and put J's knife to his throat.

"Call for Bruce," I whispered.

"Master Wayne isn't here," he replied calmly. I had a feeling he was used to this. I pulled him over to the phone, being extra careful not to actually hurt him.

"Call him. Tell him what's going on."

"I'm not exactly sure of that myself, but alright." He took the phone from me and as calmly as possible, called Bruce and explained to the best of his ability what he knew. He didn't know who was here, but Bruce did. I could hear him saying my name on the phone. Alfred handed the phone to me. "He wants to speak with you." I took the phone.

"Bruce, I'm not in the mood right now, but if you hurry, you might make it in time for the last words." I handed the phone back to Alfred. Bruce was still yelling my name into the receiver. "Could you hang that up, please?" Alfred did as he was told. He wasn't nearly as nervous as the suits from Wayne Enterprises. I decided to break the silence with some small talk. "So, how have you been since the last time I saw you?"

"Forgive me for not remembering who you are," he responded somewhat sarcastically.

"Oh, that's right. I forgot to introduce myself. I'm Harley."

"Harley Quinn?"

"Yep," I answered proudly. "I was at the masquerade a few weeks ago."

"Let me guess. You were the harlequin," he said dryly.

"That would be me." He gave an annoyed smile. I chuckled.

"So what has Master Wayne done to you?"

"Wayne? Nothing. I have a problem with his alias."

"You know?"

"In all honesty, it wasn't that hard to figure out. I don't know why J didn't try in the first place."

"J being the Joker?" I thought about that for a second.

"J being his nicer side." I missed J so much. Just saying that almost ruined my efforts at keeping a level head.

"I didn't know he had a nice side." I scowled at Alfred.

"I'm guessing you haven't seen the tapes from the prison," I retorted, a smile once again playing across my face at the thought. The smile vanished, however, when Bat Boy came busting in through the window. "Don't come any closer, Brucey."

"Harley, don't make me do this," he said moving closer to me.

"You wouldn't." I smiled at him. He didn't stop moving. The smile turned to a confused frown. J's knife instinctively moved in his direction, but he still didn't stop. I even stabbed him with it and he still didn't stop. Dang bat suit! He picked me up. Naturally, I flailed around, kicking, biting, punching, whatever I could do to get him off me. He moved closer and closer to the window. Now, I was worried. "You can't throw me out the window!" I yelled in surprise.

"Watch me," he said, letting go. I sailed through the air, watching my death approaching me like a freight train. I was forty stories up, and it was a long way down. He wouldn't kill me, would he? Before I could find out, I hit my head on something, knocking me unconscious.

Something odd happened during that fall. When I woke up, I had no idea who I was or where I was or anything.

I blinked, adjusting to the light. I was lying down on a couch. There was a dark figure standing over me, slowly coming into focus. It was a giant bat. I screamed as loud as I could, sitting up abruptly. He put his hand over my mouth, but I didn't stop. "Calm down," he said. "It's alright." He moved his hand; I continued screaming. "Okay, okay!" he yelled over my screams. He took off his cowl. I gasped. "What's your name?" he asked quietly.

"Harleen. Who are you?" I asked frantically.

"I'm Bruce." I looked around. I was definitely not at home.

"Where am I? What am I doing here?" Bruce sighed, rubbing his forehead.

"Um, there was a party here, but you fell down and hit your head." I gave him a questioning look.

"Where are my parents?" He looked at me with pity.

"To be honest, I don't know." This was all so overwhelming. I only had the faintest recollection of anything. I was remembering something. His face was so familiar.

"You look familiar. How do I know you?" I asked.

"Well…I, uh, knew your boyfriend pretty well." I didn't remember who he was, but I knew he wasn't around anymore.  
"He's dead, isn't he?" I said, tears welling up in my eyes. Bruce nodded.

"I'm sorry." I started crying, burying my face in my hands. I felt my face…there were scars. I looked at Bruce in horror.

"What happened to me?" Bruce got up to sit next to me on the couch. I could tell something was horribly wrong because he pitied me so much.

"We think," he began, "that the Joker did that to you."

"No, not the Joker…J." I remembered that I didn't call him the Joker. I didn't remember why at the time. I didn't even know who he was.

"J?" Bruce questioned.

"Yeah," I said. I was even confusing myself. It was like the whole thing with J and Arkham never happened. I didn't remember any of it. Bruce noticed that I was a little shaken and suggested that he take me home. "I…I don't remember where I live." The butler stepped in to the room.

"Oh, you're up," he said to me. Bruce motioned for him to step out with him for a second.

"Excuse us. Alfred's got a lot to catch up on," he said bringing him out onto the balcony. I watched them talking. Bruce said something to Alfred, which got quite a response from him. He was asking Bruce questions. After he and Alfred came to an understanding of the situation, they discussed something. In the meantime, I struggled to remember anything but the minutest details. I went over what I had so far.

_Ok, my name's Harleen. I have that much. I was at Bruce's party and I hit my head. Okay, got that. We don't know where my parents are. That really doesn't make much sense. I have scars from J. I don't really remember getting them, or anything else to do with him. My boyfriend's dead. He and Bruce were close. And that guy, Alfred, knows me somehow. _

Bruce and Alfred walked back in. They had a look on their faces as if they were fumbling for something to say. I looked around. No decorations. No food. "There wasn't a party, was there?" I asked.

"No," Bruce replied. I looked at him intently.

"You haven't been telling me the truth, have you? You know more about me." He nodded.

"A lot of people know more about you. Come on, let me show you something." He brought me over to a TV and brought up a TiVo menu. It was all news. "You might want to sit down." He clicked one.

I watched, fearful of what I didn't know. It was a security camera from Gotham Penitentiary. There he was…this was my "boyfriend". As I recall, we weren't really in a relationship like that, though. We just…loved each other. He looked much older than me, but I knew that was him. Why was he in jail? A girl walked into his cell. "Is that me?" I asked Bruce, trembling. He nodded. I watched the whole thing play out, all three visits. It was all coming flooding back. "That's J!" He nodded sadly. "Wait…he did this to me," I said pointing out my scars. "Why am I visiting him?"

"I don't know. I really don't." He sighed, pulling a Joker card from his pocket. I remembered everything now. Arkham, escaping, J, his death, Batman…it was all so clear. I was Harley. I knew what really happened. I came here to bug Bruce, to ruin his life.

"You threw me out the window," I whispered, looking at him. He looked back, surprised.

"Yeah, I did." Suddenly, my leg started to hurt. I looked down at it. There were marks from something.

"And you caught me."

"Yeah." I tried to hold it back, but I couldn't anymore.

"You killed him! You killed him, and you caught me!" Emotions got the best of me yet again, and furious tears were running down my face. "Why didn't you save him? Why?!" His anger was showing through his calm façade, though he remained silent. "You don't think you killed him?"

"No, I don't." I shook my head in disbelief.

"You might as well have let me fall." I got up, not wanting to be near J's murderer. I didn't like Bruce Wayne anymore.

"Harley, wait!" he said. I turned around reluctantly. "You're a good kid. Don't let things go back to the way they were." I just sighed, almost laughing in my anger. I walked out, taking the service elevator again.

It was late now. I must've spent at least three hours there. I still can't believe he did that to me. I hated him just as much at Batman now. The only thing I regretted was Alfred. I was truly sorry for causing him problems. Alfred probably made sure I was alive after I hit my head. I started for home, not knowing what to do anymore.

When I got to J's street, I was dizzy and confused. Barely conscious, I sensed someone behind me. It was probably the guy from the other night. "Oh, go away!" I yelled, running inside. I could hear people's voices, phones ringing…it got louder and louder. Panicking, I tried to get the key in the door. I was shaking so hard, I could barely get it open. I locked the door behind me and ran straight for the bedroom. I covered my head with a pillow and attempted sleep.

I woke up, still feeling dizzy. I hadn't slept well at all. Every sound seemed amplified ten times since I hit my head. I peeked out the window, hoping it would be safe for me to go outside. It didn't look like anyone was on my street at all. Was I hallucinating or did Gotham's population just decrease? I grabbed two of J's many weapons just in case.

It was all too quiet on the normally busy street, which was making me nervous. I could see a few people sitting at tables in a restaurant. I passed by the bookstore that I had been thrown out of. This wasn't helping me, but I had convinced myself that fresh air would do me good and kept walking. I just stared at the sidewalk, occasionally looking up to count cars or see how far I had gone. There was a green car with a license plate from Wyoming. That surprised me. Gotham isn't exactly a tourist hot spot. There was a blue car, a white car, a police car…

As soon as what I had seen registered in my head, I ducked away into an alley. Someone followed. I went out the other side. So did they. I started to speed up, almost sprinting. They followed. Was I imagining this? Could my brain be playing a trick on me? It was all so disorienting. I stopped to catch my breath. They came behind me. I walked on, hoping it was all in my head. Footsteps still came. "Please, just leave me alone!" I shouted in fear. My hand wandered to the pocket where J's gun was. I gasped. A hand was on my shoulder. It was my natural, involuntary instinct to pull the trigger. Realizing what I had done, I ran home. I was getting so tired of all this running away. I couldn't even take care of myself, let alone bug Bruce Wayne anymore.

I had failed J. I had everything under control until he was gone. Now, I was a shattered mess. I didn't care what happened to me anymore. I just wanted my life back. I just wanted my J back.

I was woken up the next morning by a horde of policemen crashing through my door. "What's going on?" I asked.

The Commissioner, responded, "Harley Quinn, you are under arrest for 213 counts of murder." An officer handcuffed my and read me my rights. I was too taken aback to fight it. They actually found me. He led me downstairs to a police car. I saw too many officers to count stationed outside in the rain. The officer shoved me into the back of the car and drove me off to the Gotham PD Major Crimes Unit.

I didn't even go into a holding cell when we got there. I went straight to the interrogation room. Gordon came in. I kept my eyes fixed on the two-way mirror. Truth be told, I was terrified.

"I want to talk to Michelle," I said. He looked up at me, surprised.

"You'll have to wait for your phone call." I scowled at him from the other side of the table.

"Then I'm not talking until I get it." He walked towards the door.

Not turning to look at me, he said, "Excuse me for a minute." I continued to stare at the mirror, hoping I looked better than I felt. I didn't. My makeup was half-off because of the rain. I looked devastatingly tired. The door opened.

"Harley…" Michelle began. It was a relief to see her, even if she was mad at me. "How could you do that?"

"They killed J."

"He killed more people than even you did," she said. I could tell she was disappointed with me, which piled on more things for me to deal with. She just looked at me, almost tearful at what I'd become.

"I need help, Michelle. I really do. I'm seeing things that aren't there. I keep hearing the people from the penitentiary. I can't take it anymore, Michelle!" At that moment, I broke. All I saw were big blobs of color instead of people. I wasn't calm, but I was quiet. "I can't do this anymore, Mom. I just want you back."

Michelle looked around as if she didn't know what to do. I put my head down on the table, sobbing. I was lost inside my own mind, trying to find something that made sense. She walked over and put her arm around me.

"Everything's going to be ok. It'll all be fine." As comforting as she was, I didn't believe her. Life was drowning me at that moment. I got tired fast, not noticing Michelle leave the room. I hadn't slept well in days, so I fell asleep right there.

The door buzzed, waking me. An officer, something Gordon walked in. "Come on. Up," he said. He sounded tired, too. He walked me to a holding cell, stopping to unlock the door. That's when the luckiest thing happened to me.

A bomb went off. The walls of the precinct shook and one even fell down. Not wanting to miss this opportunity, I ran as fast as possible out the door. I went down the back streets and dark alleys, stopping in an alley to enjoy the rain.

It felt so healing. I smiled, moving backwards to lean against a wall.

I stopped in my tracks. Someone ran their hand through my hair. There was only one person who would do that, but he was dead…right? They moved my hair to the side. "J?" I questioned.

The only answer I got was a rough kiss on the neck. I moved to turn around, but whoever this was grabbed me around the waist. Handcuffed, I was an easy catch. I was skeptical at the person's identity. I definitely did not want to be disappointed.

"How do I know it's you?" He put something in my pocket. I pulled it out. A queen of hearts! I turned to see him, but he was gone.

Did I just imagine that? I turned the card in my hands as I searched for a place to sleep. I couldn't exactly go back to J's now that the police knew where I was. I sat down in a different alley to look at this card. On it was scribbled, "Same time tomorrow?" I smiled. It had to be him. Only one other person knew that he called me his queen of hearts, and that was Michelle. She couldn't have told the police, could she? I suppose I would find out tomorrow. I would meet him there and turn to look at were two possible outcomes:

I would turn to see a police officer who would then lead me away to a miserable death in prison.

It would be J and my life would take a turn for the better.

I didn't care what happened to me. Those were my only choices, neither one being that bad. Either way, I would escape from my mental prison. Either way, I wouldn't need this diary anymore.

The day finally came. I woke up in the alley, my diary open on my lap. I guess I fell asleep trying to write more.

I sat impatiently, waiting for sundown. It gave me some time to think, I suppose. I thought about what life would be like with J. I thought about how much I didn't want to die. I thought all the way from the day at the bank to this alley. By that time, I had started walking.

When I got there, the alley was clothed in shadow. I could barely see. I felt the familiar arms around me. Taking a deep breath, I turned around…


End file.
